


The Ebb and Flow of Things

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the supposed lie: “I will always be there.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ebb and Flow of Things

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not certain where I was going with this but it happened anyway.
> 
> Here's a [link](http://thepoetrycollection.tumblr.com/post/3746519024/lies-ive-told-my-3-year-old-recently/) to the poem
> 
> enjoy!

_We are all held together by invisible threads._  
_Books get lonely too._  
_Sadness can be eaten.  
_ _I will always be there._

_-Raul Gutierrez, “Lies I’ve Told My 3 Year Old Recently”_

_+_

The rain poured onto the window, great streaming masses of tears shed by the sky falling two thousand meters until it struck the earth with its burdened emotion. Thus, the sadness of the heavens gave way to life on the otherwise barren land.

There were tears running down Hongbin’s face too, but it lacked the same grandiose as the rain pelting heavily onto the pavement outside. He’s not sure why he’s crying, only that he woke up to find his eyes wet and little sobs caught in the back of his throat. Maybe it was a dream— those fleeting ones packed full of emotions that a sleeping mind conjures up only to crumble again at the slightest hint of consciousness. Hongbin sat up in the bed, hair falling about his eyes, the room blurry because of the tears and the darkness. He swiped at them, smearing the wetness across his cheeks, and took a deep, steadying breath.

Next to him, curled up under the thin white sheets, Sanghyuk continued to snore softly into the crease of his pillow, blissfully unaware of the torment of emotions running amok inside of Hongbin’s mind. The old-school clock on their nightstand, complete with the little hammer that made the loudest, soul-shattering sound when ringing, read 4:04 am. The sun had yet to rise, the rainclouds made the morning even darker. For a moment, the bedroom of Hongbin and Sanghyuk’s shared flat seemed to drop a few more degrees in temperature.

Then Sanghyuk snorted and turned over, sheet slipping off his broad shoulders as his arm fell across Hongbin’s bare thighs. A tiny shudder goes through the younger man and Hongbin immediately dragged the blanket back up to Sanghyuk’s chin. He reached over and gently ran a hand through the messy brown hair, not wanting to wake his lover but aching for the reassurance of a touch. But Sanghyuk didn’t move, and eventually Hongbin’s stroking fell into a slow, soothing rhythm. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been carding his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair until the dark sky lightened up to a pale grey, the clock struck seven and the younger finally stirred, warm brown eyes peeking through fluttering lashes as he gazed in dazed confusion up at Hongbin.

“Hongbin? Are you up?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin replied, his voice cracking slightly from lack of use. His hand doesn’t stop, and a moment later Sanghyuk seemed to have accepted the reality of a morning head-massage and nuzzled closer, a content sigh escaping his lips.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Not really,” Hongbin hummed. “Just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Why?”

“Dunno. I just—” his other hand touched his face, but the tears were long gone. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” Sanghyuk yawned, moving his hand up Hongbin’s side and beginning to draw circles against Hongbin’s hip with his thumb. The morning continued to pass. The rain continued to fall, albeit slower now, and neither of them made any move to get out of bed or to part from each other’s touch. It felt like they were sitting in a limbo.

What day was it?

Where did they have to go?

“Hey,” Hongbin said, bending down to touch his forehead against Sanghyuk’s.

“Yeah?” Sanghyuk murmured back, closing his eyes.

“I will always be there,” Hongbin whispered, his voice faint enough that if Sanghyuk wasn’t so attuned to the other man, he would’ve missed the words altogether. Their lips brushed slightly when Hongbin’s leaned down, and Sanghyuk hummed, tilting his head up just a little more so that they could kiss properly.

“I know,” Sanghyuk whispered back between the slow slide of their lips, each move laced with familiarity and fondness. The hand against Hongbin’s hip is warm, and the foot he slides between Hongbin’s legs as Sanghyuk crawls over to lie on top of him is cold, but not too cold. Hongbin’s hands find themselves cupping Sanghyuk’s jaw, lips never breaking apart, and they stay like that for a while; kissing, indulging, living.

+

This story is not about soulmates.

There are no timers etched onto wrists that lovers romanticize, no black-and-white vision that will burst into colour when the one true love walks into their line of sight. There is nothing in the cosmos that will ever be able to properly explain why love transcends across time, across space, across all existences, or even if a simple love shared between two souls could ever go beyond their lives in the present.

But this is, inexplicably, the story of two people that are drawn to each other, and will continue to do so until the end of time. The supposed lie,  _I will always be there_ , holds equal truth and falsity. It really just depends on when and where you’ll meet again.

Outside, the pitter-patter of the rainfall had diminished to something a little more than a soft, gentle drizzle. And in the distance, peeking over the roofs of little houses and the branches of all-encompassing trees, the sun began to rise for the day.

**Author's Note:**

> did... any of that make sense? :')
> 
> even though I'm not sure what this all is the poem is one of my favourites. it makes me kind of sad but also a little nostalgic.
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
